The blue ink of the tattoo ran in unsteady lines atop a caramel-colored foot. And Pope Francis, dressed in immaculate white, got down on his knees and kissed it.

This man understands the power of symbolism. On Holy Thursday, Pope Francis again cleansed away preconceptions, extending the ritual washing of feet — a re-enactment of Christ with his Apostles — to women and non- Catholics.

“Among us the one who is highest up must be at the service of others,” he said during Mass at a Rome detention center, where he washed the feet of 12 juvenile offenders. “This is a symbol, it is a sign. Washing your feet means I am at your service. And we are too, among each other.”

There is something different about this pope, something felt by the thousands of youth who packed the Copacabana sands during World Youth Day celebrations and by a single UD student who cried on the phone to her Argentinian mother at the announcement of his papacy. This first Francis is also the first pope who is a Jesuit, a member of the Society of Jesus religious order whose mission and formation both forged the man and his approach to the papacy. His solidarity with the poor is obvious. More subtle are the ways this man — all the way from Rome — is influencing our lives with his call to holiness.

HOLY SEA CHANGE

He is rightly called the leader of one of the largest populations on the planet: 1.2 billion Roman Catholics. And he has the ear of the world, both secular and religious. When the media want a holiday message to broad- cast, they hand the pope the mic.

“And so we ask the risen Jesus, who turns death into life, to change hatred into love, vengeance into forgiveness, war into peace,” he pro- claimed this Easter, as reported by Fox News.

What Francis says, matters. And what Francis does, matters.

Nevermind that he’s unlikely to do anything too shocking.

“Those that might expect some dramatic changes on issues like gay marriage or women’s ordination are probably going to be disappointed,” says Sandra Yocum, UD associate professor of religious studies and president of the College Theology Society. Remember, she says: He was elected by 115 other men, and all of them were appointed to their positions because of shared perspectives and agreements on fundamental church teachings. Still, his humble demeanor and words of compassion some- how feel like a change, she says.

There’s a sense of a holy sea change under way. Francis is a different kind of pope in a very powerful, symbolic way.

Have you heard the one about the pope who carried his own suitcase? Or the bishop-soon-to-be-pope who rode the bus?

“If you’re a bishop and you’re spending a half an hour on a bus, that’s a half an hour you’re not spending in a parish, you’re not in the office, you’re not doing other things,” says Father Thomas Reese, S.J., senior analyst at National Catholic Reporter. “Now that adds up after awhile. But on the other hand, that has spoken to the world, that has been a witness, that has said something to the people. And maybe that’s more important than all the half hours that he would have spent doing something else.”

During World Youth Day, much to the consternation of his body- guards, Francis shook nearly every hand and kissed nearly every baby extended to him. He extended indulgences — remission for sins after absolution — to those who followed his Twitter account (@pontifex). In the Rio de Janeiro slum of Varginha, he hugged children who waved gold and white flags. It’s an energy and accessibility unseen in 40 years.

In Brazil, Francis said, “We need saints without cassocks, without veils. We need saints with jeans and tennis shoes. … We need saints that drink Coca-Cola, that eat hot dogs, that surf the Internet and that listen to their iPods. We need saints that love the Eucharist, that are not afraid or embarrassed to eat a pizza or drink a beer with their friends.”

In that same speech, he said, “We need saints that have a commitment to helping the poor and to make the needed social change.” It is his focus on the poor that, in these first months, has captured the most attention.

First, there’s his name — Francis — for the saint from Assisi reputed to have emptied his purse and traded clothes with a mendicant to beg at the doors of St. Peter’s Basilica. Then there’s the papal palace, which Pope Francis eschewed for a two-room apartment in an adjoining hostel. He replaced his papal limousine with a four-door blue Ford Focus. Gone is the bling — there’s a plastic black watch on his wrist and a silver ring on his finger.

Father James Martin, S.J., author of The Jesuit Answer to Almost Every- thing, says Pope Francis is someone who knows intuitively the value of symbol in the way Jesus did.

“So, the symbolism of moving out of the apostolic palace, the symbolism of washing the feet of Muslim youth on Holy Thursday in a detention center rather than washing feet of priests at the church of Saint John Lateran … and the symbolism of something as seemingly frivolous as the Ford Focus — people understand that.

“And like Jesus, people say he speaks with authority as a result of the way he lives.”

AMONG THE POOR

Poverty makes this pope different, in more ways than one.

For most of history, popes have been elevated from diocesan priests — priests who serve in a definite geographical area, a diocese. Diocesan priests do not take a vow of poverty.

Unless they are best-selling authors like Father Andrew Greeley, diocesan priests are unlikely to become rich. But they can earn and keep a salary. Priests of orders — including Jesuits and Marianists — do not. Poverty, Chastity and obedience are unifying oaths for memo- beers of religious orders.

So is Francis popular because he’s a Jesuit? Unlikely, says Martin.

“I don’t think the Jesuits are that well known,” he says. “That might appeal to people who know the Jesuits already. I think that he is so popular because he’s so authentic, and he’s so popular because he’s living so simply.”

Instead, it’s likely Francis commits acts we consider popular because of his Jesuit formation.

“We’re all Catholic, we’re all part of the church, but there is a little difference in style, a little difference in background, accent and nuance,” says Father David Fleming, S.M., professor at UD’s campus in Bangalore, India. “He has a pastoral sense that flows from his Jesuit style.”

Not all Jesuits have the same style or priorities. They discern their individual calling through 30-day silent retreats, during which they meditate pokies online on the Gospels and Scriptures, asking for God’s mercy and committing to serve Christ in concrete ways through their lives and actions.

These Spiritual Exercises, set forth by Society of Jesus founder Ignatius Loyola, are not just about a life’s path; they are a daily challenge. “What is God calling us to do today?” Reese asks.

Francis has demonstrated his calling to live in solidarity with the poor. This requires breaks with tradition.

“You can’t just say to him [Francis], ‘but we’ve always done it this way,’” Reese says. “Being open to the Spirit means being open to surprise and to change. He’s talked about that, about how the church is a human being changing over its lifetime, and we shouldn’t be afraid of change.”

That ability to change is also found in Jesuit history. Known as the soldiers of Christ, early Jesuit priests carried Catholicism — through evangelization and education — with them throughout Europe and as far away as Japan and Brazil. Reese says priests often traveled alone and worked within their faith and local circus- stances to discern the work to which they were called. “St. Ignatius would … write these long letters to people who were way off in Germany or the Far East, and he would give them a long list of instructions, but typically he’d always end his letters with, ‘If this doesn’t make sense in the place you are in, do what makes sense.’”

So it makes sense that Francis, in his new position, would decide to swap his ride.

The pope’s humility — something highly at- tractive to his followers — also has Jesuit roots. In addition to the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, Jesuits make a special vow of obedience to the pope and pledge not to seek higher office. Ignatius wanted to avoid the scourges of ambition and careerism and to prevent having his best men be picked off for service to others.

“Jesuits make a promise not to ‘strive or ambition’ for high office in the church or in the Society of Jesus,” Martin says. “We are trained not to want to desire or aim for any of those high offices. So the fact that you have someone who has made that promise and who is now in the highest office means that he will be very free about letting things go.”

BY EXAMPLE

By odds, you’d expect the pope to be a diocesan priest — two-thirds of the world’s priests are. Of the third in orders, the greatest number belongs to the Society of Jesus. Established in 1534, there are 19,000 Jesuits in the world to- day — a number that is growing in places like Vietnam and Latin America as it decreases in the United States and Europe.

As unlikely as a Jesuit pope was, a Marianist pope is even more unlikely. There are more than 10 times as many Jesuits as are brothers in UD’s founding order, the Society of Mary, and only a third of Marianist brothers are also priests. Says Fleming, “Marianists try to focus more on the grass roots rather than on high offices. And most Marianists are not ordained priests but are religious brothers instead.”

Being from an order makes Pope Francis different. Knowing he’s a Jesuit further refines our understanding of his papacy. But in the end, what does it matter to us or to a Midwestern university like UD? Hannah Petko-Bunney, a senior chemical engineering major, calls Francis the “people’s pope.” She says faith is very important in her family, who are nondenominational Christians.

“I think that the humility and open- ness of the new pope is refreshing,” she says. “There is a real chance for him to bring about welcome changes in the Catholic faith, bring about a new view of acceptance in faith.”

Senior electronic media major Scott Zingale says he was fascinated by the story of Francis picking up the phone to cancel his newsstand subscription. “I like the new pope because he seems down to earth,” says Zingale, who adds that he and other Jewish students on campus are interested in the pope’s words and actions. “He is a consistent authority figure that also makes time for the people that look to him for spiritual guidance.”

Francis’ model of leadership strikes at the heart of the learn, lead, serve tradition at the University of Dayton, says Yocum. By not taking on the trappings of the papacy, Pope Francis is serving as an inspiration of how those in leadership positions can conduct themselves.

While the pope can be a role model, he can also be a distraction, she says. We wait around for him to give us permission to do what we already know we are called to do. Following Francis’ example — and that of Jesuit founder Ignatius, who took first vows six years before receiving official recognition for the Jesuits from Pope Paul III — we should simply act, she says.

“That’s a significant piece, recognizing both our part in this and not waiting for the pope to do the work that we need to do here,” she says. The call to holiness is a universal call and we recognize, through him, that we are part of something much bigger, she says, “which includes Marianists and Jesuits and Benedictines and lay people and diocesan priests and people from all over the world.”

And all over the world, people are watching. And they see, in a simple act of example — of washing feet, of letting go of trappings and pre- conceptions — the promise of Francis’ young papacy.

Michelle Tedford is editor of UD Magazine. She once shared a ZIP code with Pope John Paul II when he moved to her block during World Youth Day 1993.

Still waiting for Rome

There has never been a Marianist pope. And the wait could be very long, indeed.

Father Paul Vieson, S.M. ’62, director of the Marianist Archives, tells us, “There has never been a Marianist who was created a cardinal.”

Popes are chosen from the ranks of the cardinals. Cardinals are priests appointed by the pope to help with the running of the church. Cardinals are often chosen from the ranks of bishops. Three Marianists have been appointed bishop, but none are currently serving.

Raymond Roussin, S.M., was the archbishop of Vancouver from 2004 to January 2009. Now archbishop emeritus, he is retired.

Paul Vollmar, S.M., was an auxiliary bishop of Chur, Switzerland, from 1993 to 2009. He is now retired.

Oscar Alzamora, S.M., was bishop of Tacna, Peru, from 1983 to 1991, when he became auxiliary bishop of Lima, Peru. He died in 1999.

Beat X? Really?

If you know just one thing about the Jesuits, it may be one letter: X.

Xavier University, UD’s longtime athletics rivalry (the future of which remains murky given athletic conference shifts), was founded by the Society of Jesus and is one of 28 Jesuit universities in the United States and among more than 3,700 Jesuit educational institutions throughout the world. It is named after St. Francis Xavier, the first Jesuit missionary.

Off the court, the rivalry dissipates.

“I think we’re good friends,” says Father David Fleming, S.M., professor at UD’s Ban- galore, India, campus, who had occasion to work with the future Pope Francis during the 2001 Synod of Bishops. “The fact that we live in communities and work in communities and have our training in communities brings us close together and gives us an understanding.”

The Society of Jesus is primarily comprised of priests but also brothers. It does not have women religious but does have associate groups of lay people. The Marianist family includes lay people, vowed women religious (Daughters of Mary Immaculate) and vowed men religious (Society of Mary, primarily brothers but also priests, all of whom share equally in membership and authority posts).

Orders adapt their missions to their times but always by the compass set by the founder. Therefore, the time and place in which the order was begun tells us much, Fleming says. Monastic orders, like the Benedictines of the fifth century, lived apart from society, creating community for those who participated in the work of God.

Breaking out of the cloisters were the mendicant orders, beggars who daily preached and attended to the people in the growing cities of the Middle Ages. These included St. Francis of Assisi and his followers. “Their style was appropriate to a growing population and had an urban sensibility,” Fleming says.

By the 16th century, the spread of Protestantism became the church’s primary con- corn. To its rescue came Ignatius of Loyola, a hotheaded Spanish soldier whose mystic- call experience led him to form the Society of Jesus. He is best known for the Spiritual Exercises — in which an individual’s calling is discerned through meditation and prayer, using intellect and emotion to deepen one’s relationship with God.

“It’s true that we have more than our share of Ph.D.s and intellectuals,” says Father James Martin, S.J., editor at large of America, of the Jesuits. “St. Ignatius put a great deal of emphasis on education because, when he was at the beginning of his ministerial life, he decided he couldn’t do much without an education.”

Says Father Thomas Reese, S.J., “We Jesuits have been changed dramatically by the fact that we went into higher education, which meant we had to send people off to get doctorates. … If you send people off for higher education, my God, they start thinking, and all that has an impact.”

In the 1800s, Father William Joseph Chaminade founded the Society of Mary in Bordeaux, France, to combat secularism and religious in- difference in the wake of the French Revolution. Its path of formation — first as a group of lay people, then as an order of sisters, finally adding a congregation of brothers — reflects the Marianist value in community and equality, says Sandra Yocum, UD associate professor of religious studies.

“The Society of Mary see themselves as bringing Christ in the world in the way that Mary did — the focus is on community,” she says. “They were trying to respond to another way of thinking about fraternity, equality and liberty within a more traditional Catholic context.”

Yocum says this is the root of the unique community feel we associate with UD and two other Marianist universities, St. Mary’s in San Antonio and Chaminade in Honolulu. The Marianists are known for providing primary and secondary education, first to boys in France and now to schoolchildren in 31 countries.

“There are many dimensions to being in- tellectual that include the affective as well as the rational side of our lives,” she says. Mary accepted God’s invitation, but not without asking questions and speaking her mind. When the wedding at Cana runs out of wine and Jesus tells his mother that it was not yet his hour, she instead turns to the servants and commands them, “Do whatever he tells you.”

“There are many ways to be intellectual in the Catholic Church,” she says. “Sometimes we think about it in the small tent but there is this big tent. Both the Marianists and Jesuits reflect certain aspects of Catholic intellectual tradition. Both are needed in service to the world.”

Just as the Marianists are more intellectual than they are often given credit for, the Jesuits are more affective than often thought.

Martin says Jesuits have renewed their com- fitment to community. “For us, community was supposed to be primarily apostolic in nature, in the sense that it supported the work of the ministries. But recently, our superior general stated that community is part of our miss- scion,” he says.

Other similarities? Mystical experiences led both men to found their orders. Just as Ignatius safeguarded against the evil of careerism, Chaminade said the Marianists should not be interested in the “ecclesiastical dignities.” Ignatius told his missionaries to do what the local circumstances dictated; Chaminade wrote, “New times call for new methods.”

Each new religious founder borrows from the past, says Reese. “What can I learn from the earlier people and what makes sense changing … and what’s the special charism of my group? I think Ignatius did that in the 16th century when he looked back at Francis and Dominic and Benedict. … I think later generations have picked and chosen from different orders and come up with their own ideas.

“It all goes back to Jesus and the Scriptures — we’re all united there.”

Though should we expect unity in the stands during basketball games? That would take a miracle.

When Pat Hurley ’85 graduated from the University of Dayton, anything seemed possible. Almost 30 years later, the father of three college-age children has become an unwitting participant in a radical experiment conducted by his alma mater. He’s glad that he did.

“I feel better today than I have in the last couple of years,” says Hurley, who “started too late … and fell behind” in setting aside the savings he would need to send his kids to college.

Dayton’s experiment involves shining a light on that blackest of post-secondary education’s black holes: calculating and budgeting for the real cost of a degree. Most colleges provide families of prospective students with a partial estimate of the cost to attend the first year of college only, neglecting to fully disclose expenses not covered by tuition, room and board. A ProPublica report characterized undisclosed fees as “a kind of stealth, second tuition imposed on unsuspecting families.”

Instead of continuing to be part of the problem, the University is proposing a solution. For first-year students who enrolled at UD in the fall of 2013, the University promises that there will be no hidden fees, no increase in net tuition and no extra charges for textbooks — for four years. UD officials say that by giving families an honest, four-year financial prospectus, students and parents can make informed choices and be part of the national conversation about college cost transparency, a conversation UD is propelling.

UD’s leaders believe the four-year tuition program is in accordance with the institution’s deepest values. In a world of opaque higher education costs, says Rob Durkle ’78, the University’s assistant vice president for enrollment management and market development, becoming more transparent about costs “is the right thing to do.”

CALCULATING THE REAL COST

Pat Hurley and his wife, Christine, vowed to pay for their kids’ undergraduate educations. (“If you go to graduate school,” Hurley told them, “it’s on you.”) So far, they’re making good on that promise. The couple’s oldest, Annie, graduated from the University of Dayton last spring. Their middle child, Patrick Jr., is a junior biology major this fall, which also marks the first semester of college for Margaret, the Hurleys’ youngest. “I have had two at UD for the past two years and will have two at UD for the next two years,” Hurley says. “This tuition thing is very relevant in our house.”

The Hurleys have sat together at the kitchen table and asked tough questions: How much to pay out of pocket and how much to borrow? Whether to take out loans or draw on a line of credit? How to avoid leveraging equity in the house that would put their home at risk? How to pay tuition for kids in college, save for those who are still in high school, pay down the mortgage and set aside funds for retirement?

Planning was hard, in part because the scourge of college fees is widespread. According to U.S. Department of Education data, degree- granting institutions in more than half the states reported that fees constituted “a greater portion of combined tuition and fees in the 2010-11 school year than they had in 2008-09,” ProPublica reported. At some institutions, the total cost of fees is several times the cost of tuition.

When Annie went to UD and Patrick Jr. joined her two years later, it all suddenly seemed overwhelming. “My anxiety when I had two [in college] was the reality of ‘Holy cow! We are spending a lot of money,’” Hurley says. “It’s just hard on a family budget.”

Forced into setting priorities, he and his wife decided their primary goals were to pay for the kids’ college and save for their retirements. Other financial goals became secondary concerns. “It took a year or two for me to get serious about taking a longer-term view,” he says.

Paying for post-secondary education is indeed a long-term proposition, yet most colleges and universities promote short-term thinking. Institutions provide prospective students and their families with one-year cost estimates that omit mandatory fees, sidestep annual tuition hikes and ignore the fact that financial aid awards can shrink or lose purchasing power over time.

“There are certain things that schools hold close to the vest,” Durkle says.

The poker analogy is apt. Families are able to calculate the real cost of college about as well as a card player can guess the hand of an opponent who raises the stakes. “It’s challenging when tuition goes up every year,” Hurley says. “It’s tough to budget. … At some point you just want to know.”

A survey by Human Capital Research Corp. found that 40 percent of parents with children in their first year of college at 21 private institutions were “very confident” of their ability to finance the education of those kids. In the second year of college and beyond, confidence fell by half, to 20 percent. Financial crises can ensue, forcing families to cut corners and students to go without required books. In the worst cases, a child drops out of school.

When Pat Hurley and his wife received the four-year financial aid prospectus that UD prepared for Margaret, it included much more information than the documents received two and four years earlier for the Hurley’s older children. Yet the disclosure is simple enough to fit on two pieces of paper.

Margaret’s prospectus listed all projected costs for four years. The first sheet shows net tuition cost (“sticker price” minus grants and scholarships) for years one through four. Should UD raise tuition, it will increase the value of scholarships, dollar for dollar. If state or federal aid declines, the University will cover those shortfalls, as well. (All but about 2 percent of UD’s students receive aid totaling more than $100 million in grants and scholarships.)

The prospectus listed Margaret’s on-campus housing and University meal plan costs (both of which are required of residential students in their first two years), as well as her estimated transportation and discretionary expenses. The prospectus showed no fees of the type he paid for Annie, which before this year totaled more than $2,000 annually for some students. In the interest of transparency, UD eliminated them. The orientation fee that UD charged Annie? Gone. The basic university fee? Gone. The lab and counseling center fees? All gone.

A line item listed as “books & supplies” shows entries of “$0” for four years. Margaret and other students in good standing receive $500 each semester to buy required texts at the University bookstore — eliminating what the University considers another hidden cost. Nationally, 70 percent of college students say they have gone without a required book because the cost was too high, according to a 2011 survey by the U.S. Public Interest Research Group. At Dayton, prospective students qualify for the book stipend ($4,000 over four years) if they make an official visit to campus and file a Free Application for Federal Student Aid (FAFSA).

Under a heading labeled “the real cost of your degree,” the prospectus lists Margaret’s total billable and non-billable costs for four years. Even though she is undecided about her major, her parents know how much their daughter’s bachelor’s degree will cost. The last section of the document lists customizable options for paying first-year expenses.

The University guarantees the terms of Margaret’s prospectus if she will file a FAFSA every year, maintain a 3.0 grade point average, enroll in a minimum of 12 credit hours per semester, and remain “a responsible member of the University of Dayton community.” If her GPA dips below the 3.0 threshold, the University will renew her financial aid and recommend that she meet with an academic counselor.

“We look at these students as members of our family,” says Kathy McEuen Harmon, the University’s assistant vice president and dean of admission and financial aid. “We want to give them the opportunity to be successful.”

And Patrick Jr.? While as a returning student he does not qualify for the guaranteed tuition program, his bill and that of all returning, full-time students will also include no fees.

The University has given Pat Hurley peace of mind. “I now have my college tuition plan for the next four years laid out. I know exactly what I borrowed, and I know what I have to plan for out of cash flow,” he says. “It’s a big weight off my shoulders.”

‘NICKELED AND DIMED’

In a sense, the need for Dayton’s trans- parent tuition program was 50 years in the making.

On Sept. 15, 1961, an item in the UD stub- dent newspaper, Flyer News, reported that the University had collected $25 from every student who registered for the fall semester. “This is the first time UD students have paid this type of fee,” the article noted. The purpose of the basic fee was “to pay the costs of student seer- vices … not covered previously by a special fee.”

Over the decades, add-on charges piled up like grime on a windowpane. Getting a clear view of four-year education costs became difficult. By the time Annie Hurley was on cam- pus, the University was assessing some 40,000 fees on the bills of some 10,000 students annually. “We created a system that almost masks the real cost of education,” says Sundar Kumarasamy, the University’s vice president of enrollment management and marketing. “We were part of the problem.”

Students and families began to complain. “I often felt as if I was getting ‘nickeled and dimed’ by the University of Dayton,” wrote a student who filled out the 2012 Graduation Sur- vey. With tuition rising annually, tolerance for fees had reached a breaking point. “The public outcry caught our attention,” Kumarasamy says.

He began devising a more transparent sys- tem, one that would inform families of the real cost of attending the University and make it easier for them to plan. He took inspiration from the teachings of the Blessed William Joseph Chaminade, the founder of the Society of Mary, which in turn founded UD. Father Chaminade encouraged “fearless creativity” and the concept of “new times, new methods,” Kumarasamy says.

The University also has a history of nimbly responding to shifting markets and conditions. In the 1950s, the Flyers men’s basketball team played in Madison Square Garden, generating publicity and creating a pipeline of students who traveled from New York and New Jersey to attend college in Ohio. When the oil crises of the early 1980s dampened enthusiasm for travel and curtailed out-of-state enrollment, UD focused attention on the local market, and enrollment of Ohio students surged. More recently, the University has enlarged its recruiting foot- print and developed new markets outside the state.

UD also was one of the first institutions of higher education to accept college applications exclusively online. It was 1999, and “people were up in arms,” Durkle says. “Now everybody is online.”

In 2012, the time seemed ripe for another bold move. Several years of record enrollments and more selective classes had put the University in the enviable position of actually needing to enroll a smaller class. If greater financial disclosure somehow resulted in UD’s enrolling even fewer students than planned in the 2013- 14 academic year, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. (Projections based on marketing models showed a potential 200-student drop.)

Following a series of executive session meetings and presentations by University President Daniel J. Curran, UD’s board of trustees adopted Kumarasamy’s vision for more transparent dis- closure and a tuition policy that held students’ net costs steady for four years. “We couldn’t lose the opportunity to do what is right,” he says.

CHALLENGE OF OUR TIME

The University of Dayton’s transparent tuition program is unique. The forces that drove its development are not.

Between 2008 and 2013, “the United States cut higher education spending by a combined 10.8 percent,” Governing magazine reported in February, citing estimates calculated by Illinois State University. During the same period, household incomes for many families were stagnant or in decline.

The gap between the cost of college and the ability of families to pay it has grown, as well. In 1976, tuition was equal to 10 percent of household income, on average. “Today it’s closer to 30 percent,” says Jonathan Robe, a research fellow at the Center for College Affordability and Productivity. UD’s emphasis on transparency and its net-tuition guarantee “is a good step,” he says. “There is an information gap.”

There is also a troublesome financial short- fall for many families. Last December, the General Accountability Office reported that fewer than 3 percent of families used a 529 plan or Coverdell Education Savings Account to save for college. “The economic downturn may have reduced income available for education savings … [at a time when] paying for college is become- in more challenging, partly because of rising tuition rates,” GAO wrote. Nationally, total student debt, estimated at more than $1 trillion, has surpassed accumulated credit card debt.

Other pressures are buffeting the higher education sector. A shrinking number of high school graduates is stoking competition among colleges and universities for a smaller pool of traditional full-time, college-age students. The decline is expected to be particularly steep in Ohio. Nor is enrollment in college a guarantee of success. Nationally, 40 percent of first-time, full-time college students do not graduate within six years. Many don’t return for the second year of college.

Durkle recalls a young woman from a blue- collar family in Chicago who enrolled at UD. “The family pulled the money together … but they couldn’t do it in year two,” he says. “The outlay was more than they had anticipated. We think this program will help to retain students. Now they’ll have the ability to see all four years.”

By providing the information families need to make sound financial decisions, UD hopes to retain more students. Requiring undergraduates to maintain good academic standing to preserve the net-tuition guarantee should further promote persistence, University leaders say.

“This is a sociological challenge of our time,” Kumarasamy says. “We need to become part of the solution rather than only identifying the problem.”

A WAY FORWARD

The experiment seems to be working.

Total number of applications for the fall semester was 6 percent higher than last year, even though UD’s sticker price for the 2013-14 academic year ($35,800) went up 5 percent. The average net tuition — per year, after scholar- ships and grants — is $19,613. The average annual bottom line as found on the four-year prospectus is $31,103.

Families are reporting, through UD’s admit- ted student survey, that the tuition plan and its explanatory materials are helpful. More than 62 percent responded that the information was “very useful” in helping them plan and budget for college; 3 percent responded it “detracted.”

Among the families who decided not to enroll at UD, 24 percent responded that the information on cost transparency enhanced their college decision.

A number of experts have endorsed UD’s transparency initiative, among them David Warren, president of the National Association of Independent Colleges and Universities, and Mark Kantrowitz, a financial aid expert who publishes FinAid.org. Clark Howard, a nationally syndicated consumer expert, said on his radio show May 20, “The University of Dayton has come up with an idea that I think is really smart.”

Not surprisingly, there have been a few bumps in the road, mostly in the area of managing expectations. In the past, engineering students paid a surcharge due to the school’s extensive lab requirements. The elimination of that fee means that tuition paid by other students will subsidize those taking labs, critics have asserted.

Some parents were taken aback this year when they received a prospectus indicating that there would be no cost for books. The old financial awards sheet listed a cost for books and an offsetting “book scholarship.” The change in presentation had no impact on the bottom line, but some families were unhappy about “losing” their book scholarship.

UD is listening to the feedback, using it to tweak the experiment and better communicate the plan that is sometimes difficult for those familiar with the old formula to understand, University officials say. It’s also giving families tools to help them compare schools offering different prospectus models (see “7 questions,” story, below).

Families approach college choice and cost in a myriad of ways based on a number of factors. Those perceptions could influence perceptions of UD’s tuition experiment. “The role of parents runs the gamut, from driving the [college selection] process to sit- ting back and allowing children to drive it,” says David Hawkins, director of public policy and research at the National Association for College Admission Counseling. “The way in which a family responds to price sensitivity … depends on socioeconomic status.”

Families of first-generation college students tend to be averse to debt. So too low- income and ethnic minority families, Hawkins says. For high-income families, debt is a way of life. “If they [UD] can offer predictability, that is a selling point,” he says.

It was for Pat Hurley. In the final analysis, sending a child to college is about more than cost. Hurley wanted his children to get a faith-based education and a quality education, and “the University of Dayton is on a short list of schools that offer both.”

“I’m a big UD fan,” says Hurley, who counts among the University’s alumni three brothers and a sister, three first cousins, and two nephews. “The fact that they’re trying to make the tuition predictable and a little more affordable shows me that they are committed to the kids they are recruiting and educating.”

John Pulley has covered higher education for more than 20 years and has led The Pulley Group, a higher ed communications agency, for the last seven. He and his wife are saving to send their boys to college.

7 questions to uncover the true cost of college

Sometimes education costs can be hidden. Other times, they are simply unconsidered. To help families understand and plan for the total cost of an undergraduate education, UD’s Rob Durkle and Kathy McEuen Harmon offer questions to ask and expenses to examine.

Questions to ask schools:

1. How much has tuition increased historically? Use those figures to estimate the cost of tuition over a four- or five-year period.

2. Does the university attach fees to certain services, such as career or personal counseling or tutoring? How about credit fees for required internships?

3. Are books and other required supplies included in the stated cost?

4. How much does it cost to participate in social activities like club sports or the Greek system? While they aren’t required for graduation, many students consider such activities an essential part of the college experience.

5. Are required courses available and plentiful? If classes fill quickly or aren’t offered on a regular basis, it might take more than four or five years to graduate, adding to the overall degree cost.

And questions to ask yourself:

6. What is my student’s annual cost of travel (driving or flying) between school to home? Such expenses should be factored into the family’s budget.

7. How can my student cut costs before enrolling? Taking AP and summer program courses for credit can reduce the number of credit hours they’ll need to take — and pay for — as an undergraduate. Achieving a solid GPA and test scores in high school will benefit their bottom line for years. “By doing those two things, students in- crease their chances of getting good scholarships,” Harmon said. “That’s the biggest thing you can do.”

–Shannon Shelton Miller

Chorus of concern

A growing chorus of concern from education experts and political leaders indicates that the issue won’t go away anytime soon:

“We must make it easier for parents and students to finance their col- lege education and understand their financial obligations,” wrote U.S. Secretary of Education Arne Duncan in a letter to college presidents.

“If colleges don’t start providing more comprehensive information to prospective students, the government will step in,” said Anthony P. Carnevale, director and research professor of the Georgetown University Center on Education and the Workforce, in an article published last fall by The Chronicle of Higher Education. “If we don’t get transparency, we’re going to have to regulate.”

“Many schools market themselves to students without explaining the real costs of attendance. Letters informing them about financial aid awards often blur the distinction between loans and grants to make the school look like a better deal than it is,” ac- cording to a New York Times editorial published last year.

“The polls are really starting to show resentment toward higher education,” said Patrick Callan, president of the Higher Education Policy Institute, in San Jose, Calif., in a story published this May by the Dayton Daily News.

Pope John Paul II had swooped into our smoggy city and brought with him tidings of joy for the youth of the world. He also — perhaps rightly, after the 1981 attempt on his life — brought a hyper- vigilant and imaginative security detail that saw in my rusted fire escape a potential sniper’s nest. It seems the pope, when looking for digs to inhabit during the 1993 World Youth Day celebrations, did just as I had done months earlier — decided the red brick charm a stone’s throw from the capitol outweighed the accompanying view of junkies stumbling over from Colfax Avenue. For more than a week, we were neighbors, him in the apartment building behind mine and me un- able to take out the trash lest one of his snipers mistake me for an assassin.

I was annoyed, but I was also in awe.

Growing up Catholic, I saw images of the pope everywhere. I close my eyes and envision the calendar that hung on the landing to my grandmother’s basement — him in profile, red cape, hand raised in blessing. He was larger than life, real but surreal, someone with a hotline to God yet for whom we prayed.

This celebrity was not lost on a young boy who, during a 1980 visit to the Vatican, went up to JPII to ask for his autograph (which he signed, “JPII”). My husband, raised Presbyterian, remembers thinking, “I don’t know who this pope guy is, but he must be famous — look at the house he lives in.” When he and his family returned to Dayton — and to UD, where his parents worked — the Flyer News ran a photo of the family palling with the pontiff.

Those who hear my husband, Kevin Anderson ’93, tell the story sometimes have the unconscious reaction of reaching out to touch him. It’s a response to the holy that I also witnessed on campus when Pope Francis was elected last March. In times of excitement and anticipation, as well as fear and sorrow, we seek a physical closeness to fill in the gaps of what we cannot articulate. Campus gathered around streaming coverage of the pomp at the papal palace to the point of nearly overwhelming campus band- width. We sought out students with Argentinian ties and those studying abroad in Rome. Each of us was drawn to the event by something different — the process or pageantry or potential — but the enthusiasm was interdenominational and infectious. And, as we do so much on this campus, we celebrated it in community.

Back in Denver all those years ago, I shook off my annoyance, walked into the parking lot separating our buildings and looked up. There was JPII taking a rooftop stroll. I had no words to describe what I felt but, grabbing Kevin’s hand, I knew I was close enough.

Feeling a spray of mist, I float down the Great Miami River with the River Stewards, an eclectic group of students from almost all majors united around their love of the river.

As I paddle my kayak past tree-lined grassy banks and watch the downtown skyline emerge in the distance, I understand more deeply their passion, their sense of wonder at the possibilities.

The River Stewards represent a new generation of water enthusiasts. As ambassadors for riverfront development, they are a critical part of a team of regional leaders and planners working to leverage the assets of more than a dozen waterfront communities in a 77-mile stretch winding from Sidney to Hamilton — and right through our campus.

Don’t underestimate the power of their vision, the depth of their tenacity.

With the help of donors and educational leaders, they recently converted a 53-foot semi-trailer into a mobile, multimedia classroom. It’s a roving billboard that vividly illustrates the students’ commitment to conserving and promoting the Great Miami River watershed. It’s set to travel to area schools this fall.

The RiverMobile’s mission is simple: to develop pride for the region, to provide knowledge about Dayton’s river system and water resources, and to develop personal responsibility for the protection of local water resources and the environment.

As Rivers Institute graduate assistant Bethany Renner ’12 told her fellow River Stewards at the unveiling of the RiverMobile, “We believe that if people learn to appreciate and grow to love our local watershed and its assets, they will do their part to act as good stewards.

The RiverMobile is just one very visible example of how the University is bringing Dayton to the river. This summer, we partnered with the Miami Conservancy District to construct a bike path extension along the river from Stewart Street to the softball diamond. We plan to build stairs to the river and place benches or swings along the adjacent bike path. We’re launching the Outdoor Engagement Center so all students will have access to the equipment they need to enjoy our rivers and trails.

More importantly, faculty, staff and students in the Rivers Institute can be found at the table of every major regional discussion about water. The River Stewards recently lobbied to remove a dangerous low dam in down- town Dayton. They created a river leadership curriculum for UD students. They spearheaded an annual River Summit to develop a regional strategy for tapping into the untapped potential of the rivers.

We educate our students to be community builders. One trip down the Great Miami River is all it takes to see how well the River Stewards have learned that lesson.

Ten years ago, Bill Mills ’00 walked into Flanagan’s and spotted someone he thought was a UD classmate. It was Matt Williams ’00, and the two realized they lived on the same floor in Founders Hall as freshmen.

Sounds like a typical UD story, except the Flanagan’s in Mills’ anecdote wasn’t the pub near campus but a similarly named spot in Grand Rapids, Mich., a city where one is less likely to meet another Flyer.

On return trips, they met two more alums, Paul Berkemeier ’00 and Tina SantaMaria Berkemeier ’00, and decided there were enough Flyers in town to start an alumni chapter. Mills became the first president of the West Michigan chapter in 2004, held the role for five years, and returned to that position in 2012.

Past chapter activities have included volunteer work with charities assisting the homeless and displaced youth, Christmas off Campus and gamewatches.

“We try to mix up our event sites and hold some in Kalamazoo or Grand Haven, even though 75 percent of our members live in Grand Rapids,” said Mills, who counts 400 alumni throughout the west side of the state. “It’s tough sometimes because we do have a smaller chapter.”

Outings near Lake Michigan prove to be a uniting force, and driving distance becomes less of a factor when members want to enjoy the beach.

They might have found another winning idea in ArtPrize, a competition promoting civic involvement through the creation of art in Grand Rapids. Residents help artists develop their pieces and then vote for their favorites. Often called the “American Idol” of art, ArtPrize attracted more than 1,500 entries from artists in 47 countries.

“Since it’s such an instrumental event to west Michigan, we thought it would be great to get the chapter involved,” Mills said.

Members gathered monthly during the summer to help Mexican artist Sebastian Salamanca Huet with his work “Childhood Desires” by placing biodegradable kites in trees. The kites symbolized Huet’s youthful hopes and dreams, which encountered both restraint and protection in the trees, representing his mother and other authority figures.

“Childhood Desires” appears downtown near the famous red steel structure Alexander Calder crafted in the 1960s that helped establish the mid-sized city as a Midwestern artistic hub.

Mills expects chapter membership to increase in the future, as he says growing numbers of students from nearby Catholic schools are choosing UD.

If they return to west Michigan, he’ll make sure to contact them — if he doesn’t see them at the local Flanagan’s first.

Surrounding yourself with children isn’t the only way to stay young at heart — acting like a kid can have benefits, too, says Shauna Adams ’79, associate professor and executive director of the University of Dayton’s Bombeck Family Learning Center.

“One of the reasons children are so vibrant and interactive is that they inspire each other. As adults, we often look for ‘the’ answer, and once we find what we think it is, we don’t go any further,” says Adams.

Joy Comingore, curriculum and field specialist at the Bombeck Center, cites author Rachael Carson, who says that for children to keep the sense of awe and wonder they’re born with, they need the companionship of at least one adult who hasn’t lost his or her own sense of fascination with the world. Adams notes that there is a correlation between creativity and innovative thinking in young children and their achievement later in life.

“For every dollar spent in early learning, between $7 and $16 is saved later in terms of fewer jail cells, less special education and intervention, lower high school dropout rates and more potential to collect tax dollars from successful citizens,” Adams explains.

Want to get your creative juices flowing? Try these tips.

1. Put down the to-do list. “Children are present in the moment. They notice what is happening around them rather than concentrating on what is coming up next or re- hashing what they just experienced,” Comingore says. “We miss the common, everyday experiences that can enhance our lives: the young rabbit in the front yard; the funny-looking cloud; the smiles on the faces of others, especially when we have smiled first.”

2. See the potential. Remember when a towel was a superhero cape, a row of kitchen chairs be- came a train car and a stick was a mag- ic wand? Reignite that imagination. “Innovation can be about physical play and items that you have in front of you, but it’s also a mindset, a communication style, a problem-solving style,” Adams says. For example, when Bombeck Center teachers led their preschoolers through an investigation of earthworms last summer, they asked themselves what other connections the lesson could hold. Since earthworms self-generate electricity as they move through the earth, the group moved on to study friction and

3. Do the hokey pokey. When Comingore sees students’ eyes glaze over during class, she has them get up, walk around, swing their arms and touch their elbow to the op- posite knee. Teacher and educational consultant Ann Anzalone ’90 points out that movement helps build the brain. “Crossing the midline of our body activates the brain and gets different areas of it working,” she says. “Children naturally get these movements in as they run and play. As adults, we have to be more intentional about incorporating brain-integrating movement each day.”

4. Don’t play the villain. Approach relationships in a non-threatening way, and they’ll be more fruitful. “Fear, threats and too much pressure increase cortisol levels and close down the learning receptors in both children and adults,” Adams says, adding that collaboration and flexibility are precursors to innovation.

5. Be silly. Start any brainstorming session with the mindset that there is no stupid idea. “Often, brainstorming is done ruthlessly, with specific rules about what it should look like,” Adams says. “But the absurd ideas have value because those are the ones that allow you to see things in a new light and find a unique solution.”

Construction worker Mark Wallen once spotted a 1960s RC Cola can sitting on an I-beam in the ceiling of Good Samaritan Hospital during a renovation project.

But when he stumbled upon a yellowed, brittle envelope covered with sawdust during the renovation of Founders Hall, he immediately knew he had discovered something far more intriguing.

“I took my pocket knife and carefully opened the envelope. I thought it was cool because it was like finding a little time capsule,” said the plumber with Wat-Kem Mechanical.

The letter, scribbled in cursive, was dated Feb. 23, 1956: “I, John Beckman, have secretly slipped this note into the inner wall of this partition when it was being constructed,” wrote the first-year student from Ottawa, Ohio, who was studying pre-optometry. “Let this note be kept for ages in the silent walls of this chapel.”

And it was for more than half a century — until Danis Construction embarked on a $10 million renovation of the 400-bed residence hall in May.

The surprising find didn’t surprise John Beckman’s family. “He was an ornery guy. He sometimes did the unthinkable,” said Midge Lause, 74, of her older brother who was known for his dry sense of humor.

Beckman, of Toledo, died of Parkinson’s disease on Sept. 13, 2010, at the age of 74. He only attended the University of Dayton for a year before briefly entering the seminary.

He was not destined to be either an optometrist, like his grandfather, or a priest. He managed Doebel Flower and Greenhouses for 15 years before opening his own flower shop, Parc Fleurs, in Toledo. He and his partner, Erwin Heer, also owned and operated three Crabtree & Evelyn toiletries stores.

None of that popped up in the University’s records. Relatives, friends — and even strangers — filled in the blanks when the University posted a photo of the note on its Facebook page and asked for help locating John Beckman. Nearly 400 people shared the request; dozens more wrote in.

2009 grad Louis Guzzo’s aunt tracked Beckman down through genealogy software. Eileen Richmond, of Belmont, Mass., went a step further and reached out to nephew Stan Beckman, who operates the 126-year-old family-owned Beckman Jewelers in Ottawa, and Beckman’s sister, Midge. Richmond even posted a link to Beckman’s obit on UD’s Facebook page.

What would Beckman think of the discovery of his secret letter?

Niece Rebecca Krouse posted on Facebook, “I know he is smiling in heaven knowing this was found.”

When University of Dayton biology professor Robert Schuellein ’44 got an offer to work at the National Institutes of Health in 1963, he had to make a difficult choice between two things at which he excelled: teaching and research.

Research won; Schuellein left the University and the Marianist order, took the job at NIH and stayed there until his retirement in 1983.

But he never forgot UD and the legacy he started here: With his faculty colleague and fellow Marianist Paul Machowicz ’41, Schuellein helped create the first master’s program in the College of Arts and Sciences. When Schuellein died in 2011 at the age of 91, he added to that legacy — with a bequest totaling $2.5 million for a faculty research endowment in biology.

A questionnaire for his 50th class reunion in 1994 gave an indication of the pride he took in the work he did. Asked to name his most significant experience at UD, Schuellein answered, “Attending the defense of my graduate student for the M.S. degree in biology — the first M.S. degree conferred at UD.”

That student was Henry Maimon ’64.

“There aren’t enough adjectives in the English language to describe what a fine and wonderful gentleman Rob- ert Schuellein was,” said Maimon, who later earned a medical degree from the University of Cincinnati and ran the gastroenterology department at St. Elizabeth Medical Center in Dayton for 26 years. “I feel I owe him a debt of gratitude in helping me get through that degree.”

Maimon had already earned a bachelor’s in English from Princeton University, but he chose to pursue medicine or research instead. Schuellein became both a mentor and a role model.

“He worked hard to make very difficult subject matter clear,” Maimon said. “He tried to cultivate the best in whatever abilities a student had. He could evoke your brain to think a little more and work a little harder.”

George Noland, who came to UD’s biology department in 1955 and became chair in 1963, said Schuellein took measures beyond what was typical to ensure that his students grasped the material.

“But he was a born researcher, and witha born researcher, you’d have to cut off his hands to keep him from it,” Noland said. “Teaching a full load and getting a research lab established at the same time is a horrendous burden. It’s almost impossible to do both, but a born researcher will do it.”

Schuellein knew that funding would make a major difference, Noland said.

“With the teaching load and everything he did for the Marianists, there were just not enough hours in the day for the research,” Noland said. “When Schuellein came in, there were no laboratory assistants. The faculty members had to do all the prep work themselves. A little money makes it possible to maybe teach one less course or hire a student assistant for a class or hire research assistants in the lab.”

Schuellein’s gift also included more than 2,000 projection slides.

“I remember when he started that collection,” Noland said. “You can’t believe what we worked with in those days. My budget for materials in 1963 was $50. If you had a slide projector in the department, it was a big deal. In those days, people didn’t just order slides. They were expensive. He was serious enough about his teaching that he assembled these materials because he knew it would help the students learn.”

Patricia S. Bryant, a retired program di- rector at NIH, worked with Schuellein during the 1970s and ’80s.

“He was a very warm and giving person, a very humble guy,” Bryant said. “His passion was training researchers for the future … building a pipeline of scientists who could make the important breakthroughs.”

It’s fitting, she said, that his legacy gift is now supporting scientists and research.

“If you’d say he was an advocate in his own quiet way for anything, it would be that.”

Joseph Szimhart based his literary debut, a novel about a disenchanted college dropout who joins a religious commune in remote New Mexico, on a true story: his own. Since his involvement in a small cult in the 1970s, Szimhart has become a sought-after consultant and speaker in the field of exit therapy, appearing on The Maury Povich Show and advising Oprah producers while conducting more than 500 interventions with patients aged 17 to 75. “I wrote it primarily as entertainment, but there are many layers of philosophical, psychological and social themes that religious seekers and others will hopefully find enlightening,” he said.

The idea for James Kaserman’s historical account of swashbuckling scoundrels in the Sunshine State was more than 50 years in the making. Kaserman, who co-wrote the book with his wife, Sarah, dedicated it to his high school history teacher, who in 1956 taught the then-freshman that some of the cruelest pirates who ever lived were those on the Ohio River. “He told us that there’s always more than one story, more than one truth, to our history. You need to look on all sides of the pages that tell our story,” Kaserman said.